| Mystery and Crime Fiction posted July 9, 2020 | Chapters: |
...24 25 -26- 27... 
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When things slow down, Jack has a chance to think...
A chapter in the book Looking for Orion - 2
Winter of the Soul - part 1
by DeboraDyess
| Background A fight for survival, a struggle for gle for faith. |
The end of the previous chapter:
Kreitz knelt on the floor beside Rachel. "Mrs. McClellan, listen to me." He took Rachel's hands in his, his eyes bright and intense. "This is not the same. Your husband was dying; his body giving up a little at a time. This isn't the same situation. I'm talking about giving your son's body a chance to fight; a chance to survive. He needs to be able to focus all his energy on getting past this. He can't do that if he's dealing with the effects of the pain. You saw what he's going through. Jack was right just a minute ago--he can't take much more of this. The specialists I've consulted all feel like this is his best chance." He shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps his only chance."
Rachel looked at him, eyes shining, searching Kreitz's face.
"I'll take care of him," he promised quietly. He didn't alter his gaze.
Rachel studied the doctor's face, riveted by the strength in the man's eyes. "All right, then." She raised a hand and quickly brushed tears from her cheeks. "Do it. Do it now."
The days became a jumble of hospital and home, rushing from one place to another and back. It felt to Jack as though he had stumbled into a demonic revolving door from which he could not escape or had fallen down the rabbit hole into Hell.
Guilt became a constant part of his life; something he'd never been plagued by before, but now could not seem to shake. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, he knew he was needed somewhere else. He sat for endless hours beside his brother's bed, arms propped on the thin hospital bed rail, head resting there. While he stared down at Cody's still face, he could think of nothing save Laine and Travis. And when he left to spend time at home with his wife and son, he ached to be back at the hospital.
The emotional avalanche battered them all. Laine had become impatient and nervous, traits which had never been a part of her personality, and Travis asked every night if he could sleep in their room. Jack finally made a pallet for him out of sleeping bags and blankets on Laine's side of the bed. He moved Rachel, Michael and Katie into the house, absorbing them into his household, adding to the strain. Jack and Rachel traded shifts at Cody's bedside, visiting briefly as they switched places.
Jack lost track of how much time he spent with Cody, how much time he spent with his family and once, frowning and staring out the window of the unmarked agency car, asked the spook assigned to bodyguard him which way they were headed. The agent responded, "Hospital," with a sidelong glance in his direction. Jack vowed silently to find a way to sleep.
The calendar became as meaningless as the clock. He kept track of time by events in the small room and with his family.
Monday mid-afternoon, for no apparent reason, Cody's vitals all crashed.
Abby Kitman had wandered up to check on the family before heading home. She'd almost made it to her car when she got a 911 message from a nurse on Cody's floor. She and Neil Kreitz literally collided as they raced toward the heavily guarded room. Pushing through the door, they found a team struggling to keep him alive. The group worked frantically for just over half an hour. As suddenly as the episode began, it disappeared, leaving everyone breathless and frazzled.
Abby stepped into the hall, trying to slow her breathing. She caught sight of Jack, who'd left the room just ahead of her. He'd leaned against the wall opposite Cody's room. "Trying to hold the building up?" She smiled at his look of confusion.
After a second, he shook his head. "Just trying to ..." He struggled for words. "Just trying."
"Go home, Jack."
Allowing his eyes to shift past her to the foot of his brother's bed, he shook his head.
"Go home," she repeated. "Your family doesn't need another person in a bed up here. Go find your own bed, in your own house, and get some rest. I'm going to stay. I promise I'll call if anything happens."
Jack shook his head, but the thought of stretching out on his own mattress, snuggling under the quilt that smelled like his wife, grew bigger in his mind.
"I'll call," she promised. "And I'm not leaving."
Jack relented.
He managed to sleep for five hours before he lumbered to his feet, washed his face and headed out again.
You're going to be here tonight for Travis' birthday party, aren't you?" Laine asked as he kissed her good-bye.
"I'll do my best."
His wife put her hands on her hips. "Let me rephrase, then, my love. You'll be here for your son's birthday party tonight. I'm not asking. Travis needs you just as much as Cody does. In fact, Travis needs you more. You will be here."
Jack kissed her again. He knew he'd lost. Any time she called him 'my love' it was time to give in. And, just as Laine predicted, he made it back in time for the party.
The family spent a solemn, quiet evening pretending to enjoy dinner, cake and ice cream, opening presents intended for a big birthday party at the skate park. Jack thought he noticed his son smile one time.
The next day, Jack awoke from a fitful nap to noise in the hall outside Cody's room. He rose, drawing his Glock from its shoulder holster. Two agents strong-armed a third man into the room, shoving him roughly ahead of them, slamming him face first into the wall. The young man struggled, although he had a better chance of lifting the building from its foundation than getting away.
Jack blinked the sleep away and recognized the boy."Let him go," he ordered.
One agent, Fielder, Jack thought, glanced his way, but neither man released their hold on the intruder. The boy continued to fight them.
"Fielder, right? And Morton?" Jack guessed at the second name and was absolutely certain he had gotten it wrong. "Come on, guys. I know this kid. Let him go! "
The agents backed off slower than Jack would have liked, still watching the young black man for any sign of hostility.
Ashton Evans turned to Jack, fury as evident in his features as the sunrise. "I wish we wouldn't have helped you!" the boy shouted. "I wish you would've found anyone but us! I wish they'd have shot you in the park!" Tears sprung to his dark eyes and he repeated quietly, "I wish we wouldn't have helped."
"
Jack closed the distance between them with three steps, keeping his face calm. His heart pounded wildly. "Hey, Ashton." He made an effort to keep his voice gentle, as if he were talking to a child. "What's going on?"
Ashton stepped backwards, bumped into one of the agents and half-turned, jerking away as if he'd bumped into a vial of acid. Jack took his arm gently and pulled him toward a chair. The boy pulled away, refusing to sit. He looked Jack in the eyes, angry and scared and confused. "They got my dad. Two white guys--your white guys. The ones you brought down on us."
Jack closed his eyes and rolled his head back, as if looking up at the ceiling. He couldn't take any more of this. When I am afraid -- Jack stopped the verse before it could get going. I know, he thought. I already know. But he didn't. He didn't trust God. He couldn't pretend. He couldn't try to fool himself into faith he didn't feel.
"What do we do now?" Ashton demanded. "My mom's terrified. She's scared they're still after us. I'm scared for my mom. She's done nothing but cry all day. What do we do? How do we make this go away?" His voice rose to a pinched, high-pitched cry, and Jack glanced toward Cody, wondering the same thing. "Make it go away!" the boy demanded between clenched teeth. "Make it like it was before!"
"I wish I could." Jack swallowed hard and looked back at Ashton. "When did it happen?"
"This morning." Defiance crumbled from the young man like a sand wall at high tide, leaving him weak-kneed and grieving. He sank into the chair. Jack knelt in front of him. "They hurt him so bad," Ashton started. He sniffed and ran his hand across his nose and mouth. "They hit him with a pipe. And they wouldn't stop. People on his route saw it and they said they just kept hitting him, even after he was on the ground. They hit him and stomped on him and even with people yelling that they were calling the police they still didn't stop. He's just all messed up." Tears rolled down the boy's dark face, leaving glistening, silver trails on his cheeks. "And they don't know if he's ever going to be better. Ever."
Surprise and hope kindled through Jack. It had not occurred to him that the Lehmann clan would lower themselves to anything less than murder. The one that came to the hospital had been willing to sacrifice himself in order to get to Cody. Why would the remaining two leave Evans alive? It seemed a careless mistake to make, especially considering the fact that they'd already made it once in the past week.
Unless they had bigger plans.
"Your dad's alive?"
Ashton nodded miserably. "In ICU. They don't know if he's going to live or not; they don't know anything."
"He'll live." Jack laid his hand on the boy's knee, remembering Joe Evans deep, rumbling voice, his calm eyes and simple, incredible faith. "He's too strong not to live."
The men's eyes met. Ashton looked away first. "I'm not sorry we helped you," he muttered. "My dad'd be ashamed if he knew I said that."
"Then we won't tell him."
The boy looked down, scratched at a small hole in his blue jeans and looked up, meeting Jack's gaze again. "It wasn't your fault."
Jack lowered his head, quite certain that it was.
When Lane showed up later that afternoon to relieve him, he relayed the newest part of the nightmare to her. She listened, her face clearly showing each emotion that rolled through her heart as the story unfolded.
"He's right," she said after a minute of hushed sadness. "This isn't your fault."
"Sure it is, Laine!" Jack said. Stress made him short tempered, and her back stiffened at his tone. He didn't back down, but continued in the same harsh voice. "If I wouldn't have insisted on dragging him up there, the Evans' lives would still be in one piece! Our lives would still be in one piece!"
Lane shook her head, scattering light brown curls from her forehead and eyes. "Then it's my fault, and Mom's fault, too. We suggested it. Or, it's Cody's fault because he didn't say no enough times to shut you up. Or the FBI, for not catching these guys before now. Or maybe it's Pam's fault, Jack, because she died." 'Lane choked out the last words, the threat of tears tightening her throat.
Jack blinked at the onslaught of his wife's tirade. 'Lane watched him for a minute, then hugged into him, pushing hard against his chest, making him hug her back. He closed his eyes and felt the magic of her heart beating against his.
"It wasn't your fault," she whispered. "You're a good man, Jack. But you can't see into the future, you can't change the hearts of other men, and you can't change what happened. That child was grieving for his father. He was afraid. No one blames you for any of this. Except for you." She held him, listening to his heart beat for as long as he let her.
He'd left her shortly after that, retreating to their home to fall, exhausted, into their bed. His sleep was haunted by a memory of charcoal-colored eyes and a deep voice alternately wishing he hadn't helped them and assuring him it wasn't his fault.
That had only been yesterday. Jack stared out the window of Cody's hospital room, watching the sidewalk two flights below.
Dr. Kitman examined the chart she held, made a note and put it on the bedside table.
"I thought you weren't his doctor anymore." Jack didn't take his eyes off the sidewalk.
"Just a note to a colleague," she commented. "Nothing to get upset about." She picked up the deck of cards sitting beside the chart she'd just lay down. "How about a game of 31? I'll deal."
Kreitz knelt on the floor beside Rachel. "Mrs. McClellan, listen to me." He took Rachel's hands in his, his eyes bright and intense. "This is not the same. Your husband was dying; his body giving up a little at a time. This isn't the same situation. I'm talking about giving your son's body a chance to fight; a chance to survive. He needs to be able to focus all his energy on getting past this. He can't do that if he's dealing with the effects of the pain. You saw what he's going through. Jack was right just a minute ago--he can't take much more of this. The specialists I've consulted all feel like this is his best chance." He shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps his only chance."
Rachel looked at him, eyes shining, searching Kreitz's face.
"I'll take care of him," he promised quietly. He didn't alter his gaze.
Rachel studied the doctor's face, riveted by the strength in the man's eyes. "All right, then." She raised a hand and quickly brushed tears from her cheeks. "Do it. Do it now."
The days became a jumble of hospital and home, rushing from one place to another and back. It felt to Jack as though he had stumbled into a demonic revolving door from which he could not escape or had fallen down the rabbit hole into Hell.
Guilt became a constant part of his life; something he'd never been plagued by before, but now could not seem to shake. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, he knew he was needed somewhere else. He sat for endless hours beside his brother's bed, arms propped on the thin hospital bed rail, head resting there. While he stared down at Cody's still face, he could think of nothing save Laine and Travis. And when he left to spend time at home with his wife and son, he ached to be back at the hospital.
The emotional avalanche battered them all. Laine had become impatient and nervous, traits which had never been a part of her personality, and Travis asked every night if he could sleep in their room. Jack finally made a pallet for him out of sleeping bags and blankets on Laine's side of the bed. He moved Rachel, Michael and Katie into the house, absorbing them into his household, adding to the strain. Jack and Rachel traded shifts at Cody's bedside, visiting briefly as they switched places.
Jack lost track of how much time he spent with Cody, how much time he spent with his family and once, frowning and staring out the window of the unmarked agency car, asked the spook assigned to bodyguard him which way they were headed. The agent responded, "Hospital," with a sidelong glance in his direction. Jack vowed silently to find a way to sleep.
The calendar became as meaningless as the clock. He kept track of time by events in the small room and with his family.
Monday mid-afternoon, for no apparent reason, Cody's vitals all crashed.
Abby Kitman had wandered up to check on the family before heading home. She'd almost made it to her car when she got a 911 message from a nurse on Cody's floor. She and Neil Kreitz literally collided as they raced toward the heavily guarded room. Pushing through the door, they found a team struggling to keep him alive. The group worked frantically for just over half an hour. As suddenly as the episode began, it disappeared, leaving everyone breathless and frazzled.
Abby stepped into the hall, trying to slow her breathing. She caught sight of Jack, who'd left the room just ahead of her. He'd leaned against the wall opposite Cody's room. "Trying to hold the building up?" She smiled at his look of confusion.
After a second, he shook his head. "Just trying to ..." He struggled for words. "Just trying."
"Go home, Jack."
Allowing his eyes to shift past her to the foot of his brother's bed, he shook his head.
"Go home," she repeated. "Your family doesn't need another person in a bed up here. Go find your own bed, in your own house, and get some rest. I'm going to stay. I promise I'll call if anything happens."
Jack shook his head, but the thought of stretching out on his own mattress, snuggling under the quilt that smelled like his wife, grew bigger in his mind.
"I'll call," she promised. "And I'm not leaving."
Jack relented.
He managed to sleep for five hours before he lumbered to his feet, washed his face and headed out again.
You're going to be here tonight for Travis' birthday party, aren't you?" Laine asked as he kissed her good-bye.
"I'll do my best."
His wife put her hands on her hips. "Let me rephrase, then, my love. You'll be here for your son's birthday party tonight. I'm not asking. Travis needs you just as much as Cody does. In fact, Travis needs you more. You will be here."
Jack kissed her again. He knew he'd lost. Any time she called him 'my love' it was time to give in. And, just as Laine predicted, he made it back in time for the party.
The family spent a solemn, quiet evening pretending to enjoy dinner, cake and ice cream, opening presents intended for a big birthday party at the skate park. Jack thought he noticed his son smile one time.
The next day, Jack awoke from a fitful nap to noise in the hall outside Cody's room. He rose, drawing his Glock from its shoulder holster. Two agents strong-armed a third man into the room, shoving him roughly ahead of them, slamming him face first into the wall. The young man struggled, although he had a better chance of lifting the building from its foundation than getting away.
Jack blinked the sleep away and recognized the boy."Let him go," he ordered.
One agent, Fielder, Jack thought, glanced his way, but neither man released their hold on the intruder. The boy continued to fight them.
"Fielder, right? And Morton?" Jack guessed at the second name and was absolutely certain he had gotten it wrong. "Come on, guys. I know this kid. Let him go! "
The agents backed off slower than Jack would have liked, still watching the young black man for any sign of hostility.
Ashton Evans turned to Jack, fury as evident in his features as the sunrise. "I wish we wouldn't have helped you!" the boy shouted. "I wish you would've found anyone but us! I wish they'd have shot you in the park!" Tears sprung to his dark eyes and he repeated quietly, "I wish we wouldn't have helped."
"
Jack closed the distance between them with three steps, keeping his face calm. His heart pounded wildly. "Hey, Ashton." He made an effort to keep his voice gentle, as if he were talking to a child. "What's going on?"
Ashton stepped backwards, bumped into one of the agents and half-turned, jerking away as if he'd bumped into a vial of acid. Jack took his arm gently and pulled him toward a chair. The boy pulled away, refusing to sit. He looked Jack in the eyes, angry and scared and confused. "They got my dad. Two white guys--your white guys. The ones you brought down on us."
Jack closed his eyes and rolled his head back, as if looking up at the ceiling. He couldn't take any more of this. When I am afraid -- Jack stopped the verse before it could get going. I know, he thought. I already know. But he didn't. He didn't trust God. He couldn't pretend. He couldn't try to fool himself into faith he didn't feel.
"What do we do now?" Ashton demanded. "My mom's terrified. She's scared they're still after us. I'm scared for my mom. She's done nothing but cry all day. What do we do? How do we make this go away?" His voice rose to a pinched, high-pitched cry, and Jack glanced toward Cody, wondering the same thing. "Make it go away!" the boy demanded between clenched teeth. "Make it like it was before!"
"I wish I could." Jack swallowed hard and looked back at Ashton. "When did it happen?"
"This morning." Defiance crumbled from the young man like a sand wall at high tide, leaving him weak-kneed and grieving. He sank into the chair. Jack knelt in front of him. "They hurt him so bad," Ashton started. He sniffed and ran his hand across his nose and mouth. "They hit him with a pipe. And they wouldn't stop. People on his route saw it and they said they just kept hitting him, even after he was on the ground. They hit him and stomped on him and even with people yelling that they were calling the police they still didn't stop. He's just all messed up." Tears rolled down the boy's dark face, leaving glistening, silver trails on his cheeks. "And they don't know if he's ever going to be better. Ever."
Surprise and hope kindled through Jack. It had not occurred to him that the Lehmann clan would lower themselves to anything less than murder. The one that came to the hospital had been willing to sacrifice himself in order to get to Cody. Why would the remaining two leave Evans alive? It seemed a careless mistake to make, especially considering the fact that they'd already made it once in the past week.
Unless they had bigger plans.
"Your dad's alive?"
Ashton nodded miserably. "In ICU. They don't know if he's going to live or not; they don't know anything."
"He'll live." Jack laid his hand on the boy's knee, remembering Joe Evans deep, rumbling voice, his calm eyes and simple, incredible faith. "He's too strong not to live."
The men's eyes met. Ashton looked away first. "I'm not sorry we helped you," he muttered. "My dad'd be ashamed if he knew I said that."
"Then we won't tell him."
The boy looked down, scratched at a small hole in his blue jeans and looked up, meeting Jack's gaze again. "It wasn't your fault."
Jack lowered his head, quite certain that it was.
When Lane showed up later that afternoon to relieve him, he relayed the newest part of the nightmare to her. She listened, her face clearly showing each emotion that rolled through her heart as the story unfolded.
"He's right," she said after a minute of hushed sadness. "This isn't your fault."
"Sure it is, Laine!" Jack said. Stress made him short tempered, and her back stiffened at his tone. He didn't back down, but continued in the same harsh voice. "If I wouldn't have insisted on dragging him up there, the Evans' lives would still be in one piece! Our lives would still be in one piece!"
Lane shook her head, scattering light brown curls from her forehead and eyes. "Then it's my fault, and Mom's fault, too. We suggested it. Or, it's Cody's fault because he didn't say no enough times to shut you up. Or the FBI, for not catching these guys before now. Or maybe it's Pam's fault, Jack, because she died." 'Lane choked out the last words, the threat of tears tightening her throat.
Jack blinked at the onslaught of his wife's tirade. 'Lane watched him for a minute, then hugged into him, pushing hard against his chest, making him hug her back. He closed his eyes and felt the magic of her heart beating against his.
"It wasn't your fault," she whispered. "You're a good man, Jack. But you can't see into the future, you can't change the hearts of other men, and you can't change what happened. That child was grieving for his father. He was afraid. No one blames you for any of this. Except for you." She held him, listening to his heart beat for as long as he let her.
He'd left her shortly after that, retreating to their home to fall, exhausted, into their bed. His sleep was haunted by a memory of charcoal-colored eyes and a deep voice alternately wishing he hadn't helped them and assuring him it wasn't his fault.
That had only been yesterday. Jack stared out the window of Cody's hospital room, watching the sidewalk two flights below.
Dr. Kitman examined the chart she held, made a note and put it on the bedside table.
"I thought you weren't his doctor anymore." Jack didn't take his eyes off the sidewalk.
"Just a note to a colleague," she commented. "Nothing to get upset about." She picked up the deck of cards sitting beside the chart she'd just lay down. "How about a game of 31? I'll deal."
And we take a sshort break from the intensity of the past few chapters. /wehw! :)
Remember: critical over kind. The first couple of drafts of this felt more like I was writing 'How I Spent My Summer Vacation' than this novel. (Not literally, of course; but it was stiff and �????�???�??�?�¢?�????�???�??�?�¦ boring as all get-out!) Please, please let me know if the tone or style doesn't fit the previous chapters. I can always give it another go, and would rather do that than leave it lame.
hank you so much for reading and reviewing!
The Bible verse Jack 'interrupts' has been in an earlier chapter. It is Psalm 56:3 -- When I am afraid, I will trust in You. Does that passage read okay?
Thank you again!
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Remember: critical over kind. The first couple of drafts of this felt more like I was writing 'How I Spent My Summer Vacation' than this novel. (Not literally, of course; but it was stiff and �????�???�??�?�¢?�????�???�??�?�¦ boring as all get-out!) Please, please let me know if the tone or style doesn't fit the previous chapters. I can always give it another go, and would rather do that than leave it lame.
hank you so much for reading and reviewing!
The Bible verse Jack 'interrupts' has been in an earlier chapter. It is Psalm 56:3 -- When I am afraid, I will trust in You. Does that passage read okay?
Thank you again!
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